


you make me hear such music

by lovelyspiral



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Meet the Family, Secret Relationship, mentioned Mila and Otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyspiral/pseuds/lovelyspiral
Summary: Yuri can feel tears gathering at his eyes, so he squints up at the sun, blinks them away.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aegisdea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegisdea/gifts).



For about the fourth time that morning, Yuri Plisetsky slams his laptop shut and shoves it across the table. Viktor and Yuuri don’t bother looking up, while Makkachin barks in alarm.

“If I don’t see it, it’s not real,” Yuri tells Makkachin, who traitorously shies away from his hand and goes to the other end of the table.

“You’re not getting a new laptop if you break that, Yura,” Viktor says, putting down his magazine to scratch Makkachin’s head. “And, you know, we’ve already printed the ticket.”

“Don’t treat me like a kid.”

“Then act your age,” Viktor says pleasantly, turns back to his magazine. “You could just take shots with Yuuri. That’s what I did before I met him.”

“That explains so much,” Yuuri says dryly, placatingly puts his hand on Yuri’s. “Please go there sober, Yurio. I’m sure JJ’s family will love you.”

“Don’t be too much of yourself,” Viktor teases. “They won’t love you if you kick them.”

Yuri sucks in a breath, turning his cheeks hollow and skeletal in an effort to stay calm. Yuuri squeezes his hand. Something snaps in Yuri then, because this shouldn’t be a big fucking deal and now it is. He shakes off Yuuri’s hand.

“Shut the fuck up, Viktor,” Yuri scowls. “How am I supposed to warm up to them if they’re, like, all JJs? I don’t do that shit.”

“You warmed up to Otabek nicely,” Viktor points out. “And you are dating JJ, aren’t you? Why are you getting so nervous now? You’ve packed all your things.”

“The flight’s soon,” Yuuri says, sounding concerned. “Is it getting overwhelming? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“It’s dumb,” Yuri grumbles, ignoring the heat steadily spreading up his neck. “and I don’t wanna go.” He pokes at his cold plate of noodles. Makkachin approaches with renewed interest.

“Nathalie bought your ticket already, so you’re going,” Viktor says. “And Yakov thinks you’re going to visit your brother, who’s terribly excited to play decoy.”

“Shut up,” Yuri repeats in disbelief. “What the fuck am I getting myself into?”

“It’s love,” Viktor cheers, and at that, Yuri leaves the table.

Yuuri is the one to drive him to the airport next day -- now officially, truly retired, Viktor refuses to wake up early anymore -- and maintains a companionable silence. No advice. He tries to hug Yuri in the parking lot; Yuri puts him in a headlock and bids goodbye.

On the flight, Yuri picks at his nails and listens to music. Embarrassingly, JJ’s added all of his albums. Yuri hasn’t gotten around to taking them off his phone yet, but sometimes, he may or may not miss JJ’s stupid voice, and so here he is, listening to “Theme of King JJ” with a frown on his face. He could sleep, but he already knows it’ll be restless -- he’s got too much on his mind.

Getting together with JJ ( _it’s not love,_ Yuri thinks to himself fiercely) has been a slow boiling something that Yuri still isn’t sure of. According to Otabek, it’s simmered for far longer than Yuri himself had realized. It’s still kind of like that -- when he and JJ are apart, he can’t help but feel like he’s imagined everything. Each visit brings twists to his stomach. And now JJ’s mother is flying him to Canada as a surprise, saying she can’t wait to meet him “properly.” Yuri could throw up at any moment.

Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

_Okay, Yuri, look, I’m going to hold your hands and you’re going to close your eyes and we’re going to breathe together. I’ll count, okay? Let’s think about something pretty._

Shakily, he inhales. Exhales. He misses Beka: Otabek always knows what to say, always stays calm. He never makes JJ’s brow wrinkle, never stays up hurling words back and forth back and forth with anyone. Otabek and Mila fit, while Yuri can’t help feeling that he and JJ are like two puzzle pieces with bent edges, sometimes.

He skips to the next song.

 _I fall in love with you slowly,_  
_I don’t know where i’m going,_  
_I just hope that you’ll be there_

 _I know it’s easy to forget,_  
_but please, please,_  
_keep me close,_  
_keep me warm_

Yuri presses his cheek to the window, opens his eyes to stare at the puffy white clouds and pale sky, slowly melting from blue into hues of pink and yellow. The glass is cold against his skin, reminds him of the rink, and inexplicably, of JJ stealing kisses behind the bleachers.

_Hey, Yuri. Go out with me._

_What does that even mean, idiot? You live in Canada._

_But Yuri, I can go the distance if you give me a chance! A man will do anything for his lover’s kiss._

_Who’s getting kissed here?! Nobody!_

Absently, cheek still pressed flat against it, Yuri traces shapes on the window. A spinning figure. J’s. Clouds and a little sun. A cat. Waves. He stretches his legs, frowning. The seats are far too uncomfortable for the long flight. Not unlike -- well.

Has he always thought about JJ this much? Or is it the notion of a surprise visit that brings every memory of theirs to mind?

It’s because I’m not skating, Yuri tries to reason with himself, but more than anything, it’s the ice that captures JJ’s smiles and songs and laughs, plays them back to Yuri as he tries to push forward.

He’d been sitting, red-faced, on JJ’s lap when they’d first kissed. It had been barely anything: JJ had wanted his bangs trimmed for the next day’s event, and insisted that Yuri sit in his lap for just the right angle. Yuri’d put the scissors down, after, mumbling something or other when their noses bumped.

A challenge had sparked in JJ’s eyes.

Yuri had once known gravity well: there’d been a time when skating scraped his knees raw, when he couldn’t land a single jump. But he’d fought and fought to fly, fought and won.

Looking at JJ’s lips, Yuri had felt that tug, pulling him down, down, down.

There’d been small snips of hair littering JJ’s collar when Yuri’s fingers had curled around it. JJ had smiled.

“You can kiss me,” JJ had said, “if you want to.”

“Why would I want to,” Yuri had scoffed, and then, with a frown ghosting on his expression, had pressed their mouths togethers, all squinting eyes and determination. Honestly, it hadn’t felt like much, but JJ’s eyes had closed and his hand came up to cradle Yuri’s cheek, to guide him. The heat erupted, then, and devoured him.

Kissing JJ never became something Yuri could get used to; kisses are so few and far between for the two of them. Yuri barely even remembers the feeling of JJ against him -- only that it makes him feel warm, and that he misses it, which nobody but Beka will ever, ever know. When they’d last seen each other, JJ had pressed their foreheads together in the airport’s bathroom stall. His eyes had been so close, so large and looming, but so, so bright.

“I feel like I’m looking at emeralds,” JJ’d whispered.

Yuri’d bitten him for that, pleased with the cut it left; when it scabbed, JJ would have something to remember him by. He’d know it wasn’t a dream.

That was months ago. Yuri slumps in his seat, noisily exhales. His bangs poof. His scowl elicits a small squeak from the little girl in the row across from him. If JJ were here, he definitely would’ve done something to make the girl laugh. JJ was totally incapable of not being able to smile -- even while close-lipped, his teeth threatened to shine through, a few peering out from the slight parting between his lips.

The girl’s still peeking over at him. Yuri attempts to smile. She stares, then slowly breaks out into a grin.

“Your hair’s pretty,” she whispers.

“Um,” Yuri says. “Thanks.”

“My mama’s hair is long too,” the girl confides.

“Oh,” Yuri says. Next to her, he can see a woman with waist-length black hair, head tipped back as she dozes. Tiredness is etched in her face, and suddenly, Yuri finds himself missing Lilia.

If he asked Lilia about love, what would she say?

The girl nods, satisfied. “I’m gonna sleep now. This flight is long.”

It’s all going too fast to me, Yuri thinks, but he turns away from her, back to the window. The sky is dark; he dozes off.

He wakes up with a shudder when the plane lands. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he grabs his plain black duffel -- the cheetah printed one was too attention-grabbing, but he misses it anyway, and may or may not let his bag knock into a couple of seats. Fuck it.

He can feel a foul mood descending like a cloud.

The crowd sweeps him out, out, out, and he’s stranded, feet dragging as he heads to meet Nathalie. He wants to turn back. He wants to pull his hood down lower. Everyone’s definitely looking at him. He can hear whispering --

Even so, the thought of JJ makes his chest flutter. Yuri takes a few breaths, pushes his way to arrivals.

“Over here!” Nathalie Leroy hops up and down, popping out from the cluster of people waiting by the gate. He’s seen her distantly at competitions and events, but here, up close, she’s buzzing with excitement, looking at him with gentle, kind eyes.

Her soft expression reminds him of JJ.

How much has JJ told her? _Something_ made her reach out to him.

“Welcome, Yuri!” She says brightly. “I’ll take your bag, don’t be silly. JJ’s clueless, he’s been so busy planning the party with his siblings -- you know, he just offhandedly mentioned to me -- well, not really to me, to himself -- ‘I wish Yuri could be here for my birthday -- and of course, I had no idea what he meant! AJ always knows these things, so I had to wrangle it out of her, and she’s such a huge fan of you too! She was in the junior circuit when you were, do you remember her?”

Yuri blinks. His hand is still grasps air where his bag was. He opens his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but her smile turns any potential words to a painful frothing in his stomach. “Uh, yeah,” he finally manages. “I can carry my bag, um. Thanks.”

“I had to call you, after hearing what I did,” She says softly, swinging the bag away from him. “I hope you’ll enjoy the party. JJ’ll be so happy.”

Yuri swallows, and nods. His hand falls limply to his side. Nathalie’s talking again, her face radiating clear pride. “For now, you’ll stay with LJ -- you skated with him and my daughter during your junior years, I don’t know if you remember?”

“I remember,” Yuri says haltingly, but honestly, all he can conjure is fuzzy outlines with big mouths. Recently, he’s seen photos of the younger Leroys, but he can’t recall anything from their skating days.

“I didn’t book your return ticket yet so you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Yuri,” Nathalie adds a bit more quietly. “We’re happy to have you.”

“Thank you,” Yuri mumbles, flushes darkly. “But I have training to get back to.”

If you say that, I won’t want to leave.

“Of course. Well. I can’t wait to see JJ’s face,” She chuckles. She’s walking ahead steadfastly, turning every now and then to check if Yuri’s still by her side. “He’s out tonight with his friends. Tomorrow’s for family.”

“Okay,” Yuri says tentatively. The question’s burning on his tongue: _so, hey, tell me, do you give a fuck about your son dating ‘the Russian Punk’? Do you think he should be dating someone else? Do you hate that Isabella didn’t become your daughter-in-law?_

“That means you too, Yuri,” Nathalie says, slinging her arm around his shoulder. She’s about his height, Yuri notes with burning embarrassment. It hits him, then, her words -- like a tidal wave -- _breathe, Yuri, breathe, do you want me to sing to you?_

“Thank you,” Yuri croaks. She beams up at him, squeezes his shoulder.

“You’re so polite! I wonder why they call you a punk even now!” She laughs at his sputtering, still holding his bag out of reach and keeping her arm around him until they reach the car.

As she drives, Nathalie chatters about JJ: when he was born, how he grew up, the first time of ice, JJ trying to find the right coach, JJ’s wins. Yuri nods and hums here and there, laughs a few times -- JJ once cried because he couldn’t fit a watermelon in the blender -- and when he does, Nathalie beams with pride.

“He’s always been good kid,” Nathalie finishes speaking fondly. “We’re here! JJ’s car is still out, good -- let’s smuggle you in!”

This has got to be a dream, Yuri thinks hazily. He’s back in Russia, back in his bed with his tiger-striped blanket and his cats, but it’s all shattered when AJ comes running down the hall, wearing pink and black socks and sliding her way over.

“Yuri,” she cheers, “it’s so good to see you! Omigosh, your hair is so long and pretty now, can I braid it?! Bro’s definitely not coming back for a while so we can hang out in my room and just hide you when he gets back!”

“I don’t let people touch my hair,” Yuri says, steps back. AJ’s undeterred, clapping her hands together and shrugging.

“Okay! I’ll be in my room if you wanna hang out, cause LJ’s sleeping.”

It’s dark when Yuri toes his way into the room, but LJ’s sitting up in bed, face lit a pale blue from his laptop screen. He’s got red headphones on.

“Hey,” Yuri says. It’s not like LJ will hear him anyway, but he lifts a hand in greeting without looking up.

Yuri slowly settles on the spare bed, glancing around the room. He can make out some photos of skaters, some band posters. There are skates neatly placed by LJ’s bed.

I’m going to wake up in Russia, Yuri thinks. He opens Instagram and mindlessly scrolls, chewing at his lip. Fans are posting wishes for JJ and tagging him in photos, either of themselves or of JJ. Some innovative JJ’s Girls have Photoshopped themselves in JJ’s arms. Yuri can’t really blame them.

Yuri sets about making a collage with their worst pictures -- a single nice photo as a saving grace, one where Yuri’s kissing a red-faced JJ’s cheek -- and chuckles to himself. For a moment, his smile sticks: if this was anyone, anything else, it wouldn’t have to stay a secret, wouldn’t have to be buried in his ‘Recently Deleted’ photos until he could recover it, alone in his room and aching.

 _Even if we could,_ JJ’d once said, laughing into Yuri’s neck, _I wouldn’t want to share my moments with you. I like having you to myself._

Tomorrow, tomorrow -- tomorrow, he’d be seeing the real thing. It wasn’t _someday_ anymore.

At midnight, Yuri texts JJ a brief _happy birthday_ , attaches the collage, and shoves his phone under his pillow. He counts to ten, then carefully slides it back out. Nothing. He counts to twenty. Thirty. Fifty. Sixty-five. He gets impatient around one-hundred and forty.

His phone chimes.

_fucking idiot jj: love you and miss you! wish you were here babe but i’ll call you tomorrow :( wonder if i’ll get a present from you anytime soon?? ;) <3_

_you wish,_ Yuri types, the phone’s glow illuminating the small smile on his face.

“Is that my brother you’re texting?” LJ says suddenly.

“Fuck,” Yuri says, nearly dropping his phone on his face. “No.”

“Shouldn’t you wish someone happy birthday,” LJ asks, “if it’s your partner?”

“I did.”

“So it was JJ.”

“Why do you need to know,” Yuri snaps. The moment the words leave him, he hears Otabek’s soft voice chiding him.

_Yura, this is JJ’s little brother. Be polite._

Even with Otabek’s advice, exhaustion runs deep in Yuri’s bones, slumps his shoulders. This as a mistake is all that blooms in his brain, like one of Viktor’s weird Venus flytraps. It’s eating at him, and Yuri doesn’t know what to do. Whatever he’d just felt buzzing through his system has faded.

LJ’s staring at him, thin and pale in the faint blue light.

Exhaling, Yuri mutters, “It’s been a long day. I’m sorry.”

LJ flicks on the lights, leaving Yuri to squint and sputter and shield his eyes.

“We’re, like, the same age, aren’t we,” LJ says. “Or almost.”

“Almost,” Yuri echoes. “So?”

“So it’s weird that you’re dating JJ.” LJ wrinkles his nose. “You’re the Russian Punk or whatever. Dating doesn’t really fit your image.”

“Nobody knows,” Yuri says. Panic threatens to seal his throat closed. “So don’t talk about it. If you do--”

“Yeah, I know that. He only told AJ,” LJ says, waving a hand. “Maman was surprised because she said JJ always made you scream.”

“He’s infuriating,” Yuri agrees automatically. Wincing, he adds stilted words. “But he’s a good person. Your brother. JJ.”

“My brother works really hard to make everybody happy,” LJ says. “Sometimes it’s super shitty, cause not a lot of people do that for him.”

“He comes on really fucking strong,” Yuri says dryly. “Nobody asks him to give so much. He’ll get tired eventually.”

Honestly, Yuri’s not sure how JJ does it. LJ’s frowning, though; Yuri is beginning to wish that he hadn’t said anything at all, that he’d just admitted to texting JJ and going to sleep. Hell, he wishes he hadn’t gotten on the goddamn plane at all.

“That’s not the point,” LJ says. Frustration sparks in Yuri’s chest: what’s the point of dancing around each other like this? If the brat’s got something to say, he should just fucking say it.

“If you’re trying to see if I’ll make him happy,” Yuri says, “JJ’s fine with me. I’m here, aren’t I?”

LJ looks pensive. His hair is a deep, dark red like his mother’s, and he brushes it out of his eyes before nodding. “Yeah, I guess. I’m gonna sleep. Good night.”

With that, LJ turns off the light again.

 _What the fuck,_ Yuri mouths to himself, then adds a silent _good night_ to the dark, to JJ, suddenly so close after so long.

He’s woken the next morning by AJ, her bangs brushing his cheek as she leans over him excitedly. “Hey! You wanna have a dramatic entrance or just sit with us?”

“I’ll sit,” Yuri says weakly, inching away from her. LJ’s already gone.

“Sit next to me,” AJ says instantly. “I never really got to know you, but now I can! You’re really cool.”

“Why,” Yuri says.

“Why what?”

“There’s nothing to know,” Yuri says. Yuuri had once said that he was like a little volcano, not yet dormant, not totally active. He’d been laughing, ruffling Yuri’s hair -- Yuri can’t even remember what he’d been upset about -- but the thought still makes him feel weird. JJ calls him _passionate_ ; Vanya calls him _a case of growing pains_ ; Viktor calls him _stubborn_ , but Viktor’s stubborn too. Viktor’s learned the fastest how to leave him alone.

Whatever anyone says, don’t they just mean angry? Anger’s always there, molten and flowing, pushing him to skate harder, pushing him to rely on himself and himself alone. He has friends, kind of, but the lives of skaters are busy. Otabek and JJ are miles away; yeah, they say he can call them even if they’re sleeping, but he’s not that much of a dick. They need rest. Even with Mila and Georgi around, he’s the youngest, the most temperamental.

More often than not, Yuri feels alone.

The ice should be enough. The ice _is_ enough, he tries to tell himself, but ever since stupid fucking JJ really came into his life, Yuri feels so listless. Next to JJ, he always feels like he’s missing something. Once, it was about medals. Now, he’s not so sure.

“JJ told me you like cats,” AJ tries. She’s frowning, brow furrowing as she thinks. “He told me you work really hard and that’s why he likes you.”

“Everyone works hard,” Yuri says. “You have to.”

“Yeah, but obviously you’re special.” AJ waves her hands in the air, flashing chipped navy blue polish. “Like, you debuted super young and got gold. You’ve shattered records. Viktor’s records -- JJ’s dreamed about that forever.”

“Do you still skate?” Yuri asks. “Or mainly modeling now?”

“I still skate,” AJ affirms. “I have exams coming up -- gotta get into college as a backup you know -- so kind of modeling a bit more now, but I still skate when I can. I love it.”

“Honey, hurry up,” comes Nathalie’s call. “JJ’ll be here soon.”

When AJ grabs his hand, Yuri lets her. He settles in a chair next to her, keeps his chin up. Alain and Nathalie smile at him, while LJ’s tapping away at his phone.

Yuri sucks in a breath and turns to LJ. “Morning.”

_You’re the Russian Punk for a fucking reason. You’ve met all these people before, who cares if they like you or not?_

_JJ's the only one who matters._

“Morning.” LJ looks up, a red imprint from his headphones visible on his cheek.

“Nice look you’ve got.” Slight smugness tugs at Yuri’s lips.

“This always happens,” AJ confides, and LJ tosses a napkin at her.

JJ’s singing floats down the hall, and Yuri’s mouth softens. JJ’s singing, of all things, seems the most tangible to him. He’s had JJ’s voice against his cheek, in his hair, his neck -- in his hand, saved on his phone.

Even if this is still a dream, even if his brain can’t register JJ before him -- JJ frozen, hand still at his hair even though the towel’s fallen -- even if they’re meant to crash and burn, Yuri can feel his heart pounding already, sweat prickling at his armpits.

“Yuri?” JJ says. His smile spreads slow and excited; his gaze flickers from Yuri’s face to his family’s, like he’s trying to figure out if they can all see Yuri. “

Yuri doesn’t know what to say first -- maybe happy birthday? -- and then arms are locking around his knees, sending his chair clattering to ground as JJ lifts him up. Yuri yelps, grips JJ’s shoulders, where water’s pooled from his hair, where’s it’s warm and firm and familiar.

“You’re really here,” JJ murmurs, head tilting back so he can look at Yuri, unable to contain the shaking of his shoulders, the trembling of his smile. “My wish came true last night.”

“You could’ve asked me,” Yuri says quietly, face burning with embarrassment but fuck, he’s missed JJ’s arms too much to stop this. “Idiot, making your mama call me like that.”

“You were training, _chaton,_ ” JJ explains. “I can be reasonable.”

“Reasonable like waking me up at five a.m. to hear your shitty lyrics?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Put me down already.” Yuri pushes at JJ’s face. “Your family’s been waiting -- oi!”

“Sorry,” JJ sings, _"Vos désirs sont des ordres, votre altesse.”_

“That doesn’t mean you can drop me.” Yuri sticks out his hand, wiggles his fingers. “Up.”

JJ’s fingers are slightly pruned from the shower, but they’re still warm, and they still fit comfortably between Yuri’s. Yuri’s hoisted up and pulled to JJ’s chest easily, and, like always, Yuri tries to memorize the lines that rest against him.

“Happy birthday, bro.” AJ’s stifled laughter cracks their little, unconscious bubble. “Do you like your surprise?”

“I think I’m dreaming,” JJ says, squeezes Yuri’s waist. “Maybe I hit my head last night.”

“I’m real.” Yuri untangles himself from JJ’s arm, already feeling his face burn because fuck, he totally forgot about the other Leroys, and hastily sets his chair back up. “Go sit so we can eat.”

“There’s that shine in your eyes,” JJ remarks. “Always for food but never for me.”

Yuri just lifts his chin, smirking at JJ across the table as Nathalie and Alain begin setting out dishes.

“You know,” JJ says, “it’s traditional that guests have to drink a gallon of maple syrup in just one minute.”

“The next time you come to Russia, I’ll give you a gallon of vodka.”

“Me too,” AJ says, grins and pokes Yuri in the side. “JJ’s so lame when he’s drunk, isn’t he?”

“He starts crying,” LJ adds. “And he can’t stop.”

“I hate you guys,” JJ says, leaning over to pull at AJ’s bangs. “AJ starts singing off-key.”

“You do that when you’re sober,” Yuri says flatly. Pleased surprise flashes across JJ’s face and then he bursts into laughter.

“Beka ratted you out; he told me you like my singing.”

“Beka’s a dirty liar.”

JJ feigns shock, slapping his hand over his chest. “I just felt Otabek’s heart break, right here.”

“Beka’s heartless.”

“The food is going to get cold,” Nathalie interrupts gently. She pushes a towering stack of pancakes a little closer to JJ. “Eat up.”

“Yeah, save the flirting for later,” LJ adds, carefully capturing three pancakes between his fork and knife. “Or I’ll puke.”

“You and your girlfriend are so much worse,” JJ accuses through a mouthful of food. “And no attacking me on my birthday.”

Ears burning, Yuri cuts at his breakfast with ragged lines. For some fucking reason, he’s always had issues holding utensils -- of all the issues to have -- but hopefully, hopefully JJ’s family won’t notice. Or if they do, they won’t say shit about it.

“You’re so cute,” JJ says dreamily, and Yuri chucks a napkin at his face.

“Maman, I want to show Yuri the rink after this,” JJ says, waving his fork in the air. There’s a smudge of syrup on his lip. Yuri stares until JJ notices, beams, and drops his eye into a lazy wink.

“Don’t tire yourself out before your relatives arrive,” Alain says, but he and JJ share a nod, a warm smile; Yuri can’t take his eyes off of them. JJ looks like his father: the blue eyes, the strong brows, the stretch of their smiles. “You can take Yuri after everyone else arrives.”

Yuri doesn’t look much like his father; he hasn’t dared to ask about his mother for a long, long time. He can see part of himself in Grandpa, sometimes, and in Vanya, but seeing JJ mirroring his father so clearly, he feels something clench in his chest.

He should’ve kept pushing. When Vanya remembered, when his father and Grandpa hadn’t urged him to just focus on skating -- he should’ve --

“Excuse me,” Yuri says politely, trying not to grimace. “I have to make a call.”

The sound of his chair moving back is too damn loud.

“I miss you already!” JJ’s voice floats after him, as does AJ’s, complaining, “That’s your natural state of being, bro.”

Outside, the infectious cheerfulness of the Leroys dissipates, and there’s only clear blue skies to look at, only warm sunrays against his skin. It’s the kind of weather his cats like to bask in. Yuri leans against the door, dials from memory -- there’s just something about calling family that he likes.

His brother picks up on the second ring. “If it isn’t Russia’s favorite punk!”

“Ivan,” Yuri says. “Have you seen mom lately?”

“You know I haven’t,” Ivan says. “What’s wrong? How’s JJ’s? Is it awkward? Did you fuck up already?”

“It’s a little awkward,” Yuri grumbles. “They’ve seen the shit I did when I was like, fifteen.”

“Look, you’re there because they wanted you to come,” Ivan’s voice crackles over the line, but its usual languidness still seeps through. “And you like JJ, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but like,” Yuri frowns, struggling. It’s never been hard talking to his brother, but talking about JJ is a different level. “What if they think I’m shitty or whatever?”

“They wouldn’t be wrong.”

“Fuck off.”

“So I’ll hang up then?”

“No,” Yuri says quickly. “Just -- what do I do?”

“Don’t waste the time you have with him,” Ivan says seriously. “Like, hold him close and stare into his eyes really dramatically and just do what you can.”

“Gross, are you just talking about Minami now?”

“You’ll never know,” Ivan says sagely. “Maybe JJ tells me all his fantasies.”

“Okay, first off, that’s a stupid fantasy. Second -- even if you are best friends, why would he talk about fantasies involving your younger brother?”

“When a bro needs to talk, a bro needs to talk.”

“You better not tell him anything I say.” Yuri scoffs, feeling a smile tug at his lips regardless. “Idiot.”

“I tell him everything,” Ivan says, drawing out the word with somewhat of an audible grin.

“I’ll just have to befriend Minami then,” Yuri replies with a smirk. “He’d sell you out for Yuuri’s crumpled socks.”

“I know, isn’t he cute?” Ivan says fondly. “He’s such an angel.”

“Shut up,” Yuri laughs. “When are you seeing him next? You’re getting so pathetic.”

“You must’ve picked up my habits, little brother,” Ivan teases. “In two months he’ll catch a break, so we’re trying to think of somewhere to go.”

“The ocean,” Yuri says, “in Hasetsu is nice.”

“Maybe,” Ivan hums. “I’m gonna call him now, actually -- say hi to JJ for me. Good luck, Yura.”

“Good luck to you too, Vanya.” Yuri ends the call and turns to head back into the house with a sigh. To his surprise, he finds the door open, with JJ leaning against the opening, arms folded.

“Hey,” JJ says, opens his arms. Yuri steps into them, and their lips are connecting, almost frantically, almost uneasily until Yuri grips JJ tighter, feels laughter burst against his mouth. They part, and Yuri _looks,_ really looks at JJ and his half-dried hair, at the redness of his cheeks, and the blue of his eyes. 

“Let’s go skating.” JJ’s lips brush across his forehead, a whisper of a secret, his body casting a shadow over Yuri. With a quick now, Yuri follows.

_(i would follow you anywhere)_

Here, holding JJ’s hand far, far away from home, makes Yuri want to cry. Being with JJ makes him feel just as vulnerable, just as exhausted as when he’s giving his all to the ice, when, at the same time, there’s something unfolding, wings flapping, inside of him.

JJ swings their hands, whistling, and Yuri can’t help but stare at the fingers that cover his, calloused and pressing gently, gently, gently.

Even with JJ at his side, he feels like he’s still walking in a dream, still feels overwhelmingly alone, like JJ’s going to vanish at any moment. Yuri can feel tears gathering at his eyes, so he squints up at the sun, blinks them away.

It’s a beautiful day.

“You seem a bit quiet, _chaton,”_ JJ says, bringing their hands up to press a kiss to Yuri’s knuckle. “Did you fall?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says. “Mila tripped me.”

“Oh no,” JJ laughs, plants a kiss on Yuri’s cheek with a loud _muah_. “I’ll protect you next time. Poor Yuri-chan.”

“Happy birthday.” Yuri lets the kiss on his cheek linger, squeezes JJ’s hand. He’s here. He’s real. In places like this, he can hold JJ and nobody knows them, nobody will look and see JJ’s pale blue eyes reflecting him and only him.

Yuri’s finding it a little hard to breathe, now.

“Hey,” JJ says, stops. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t have anything to give you,” Yuri says.

“I don’t need a present,” JJ says, brushing Yuri’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m happy just seeing you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuri’s voice cracks, and he curses himself, curses JJ, curses the stars and all modern invention -- whatever brought them together here.

“We can think of something while we skate,” JJ says. “Isn’t it a beauty? This is where I grew up, pretty much.”

“It’s okay,” Yuri says, tipping his head to look at the rink. It’s pretty large, honestly, and JJ just squeezes his hand again and leads him inside, insists on lacing Yuri’s skates for him.

“Don’t be like Viktor,” Yuri chides, and for that, JJ pushes him onto the ice first, laughing as Yuri waves his arms to balance.

“Look,” JJ says, and leaps. “Now, I rule the world, and the starry sky--”

“Don’t,” Yuri says, trying to stifle his laughter as he approaches JJ’s side.

He never thought he’d fall in love with a skater. Love itself was something untouchable, messy -- something that housed Georgi’s laments and the public spectacle that was Viktor and Yuri -- and Yuri figured that, if he ever even managed to fall in love, it wouldn’t be with a skater. It’d be with someone quiet and soothing, someone who made Yuri feel the way he did when he was home with his cats purring on his chest: when everything wasn’t roaring in his ears, when chill wasn’t soaking into his bones -- just better, somehow. He wasn’t really sure what better would mean, but from the way that Viktor lost his mind over Yuuri, Yuri figured that he’d know when it happened.

To Yuri, it’d looked like Viktor and Yuuri had been something of a slow, gradual pull -- something inevitable. He’d never thought about JJ that way. JJ wasn’t someone to just happen; he made an entrance. He got under Yuri’s skin, goading him towards gold, and then, then that wasn’t enough, and despite the distance, everything still felt like falling.

“I missed you,” JJ says, extending his hand and linking his fingers with Yuri’s. “You being here is a gift in itself, Yuri.”

“But then I’ll have to go,” Yuri mumbles. JJ lifts his arm, and Yuri does a small spin under it, eyes on their entwined fingers.

“I don’t want you to leave either, _chaton,_ ” JJ says ruefully. “Train hard so we can climb the podium together again, okay? I want a nice picture with you.”

“If your old man knees can handle it.”

“My knees can handle anything,” JJ says, drops his hands to Yuri’s waist. “Lift?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, grips JJ’s shoulders. JJ lifts him into the cool air of the rink, laughing quietly beneath him. Yuri’s brought back down to Earth all too soon, air rushing around him, lifting his hair, but JJ presses soft kisses to his upper lip, again and again until Yuri’s not sure if he ever came back to the ground.

“Feels like just yesterday you were throwing your skates at me,” JJ grins. “Your cute little knife shoes.”

“I still would,” Yuri smirks, bumping JJ’s foot with his own. “So don’t get too cocky.”

“Who? Me? Never.” JJ slaps his hand to his cheek, feigning surprise. “Hey, Yuri, wanna see the short program I’ve been working on?”

“The one with literally, exactly six hundred jumps?”

“Literally, exactly that one,” JJ says gleefully. “It’s gonna be great.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “So you’re gonna show me -- your competitor -- your program? What happened to not going easy on me?”

“Just one part,” JJ whines. “The part where I rip off my shirt and you see the giant tattoo of your face in a red heart -- with flames, probably -- on my chest.”

“That doesn’t even deserve a response.”

“Because I make you speechless?”

“Because you make me speechless,” Yuri quietly affirms, loops his arms around JJ again to pull him down. He can hear JJ’s heart thumping, pressed against him as he is.

“Hey,” JJ says. “You really missed me, didn’t you? We both got so busy -- did I mess up?”

“I’m glad I’m here,” Yuri says. “But it always feels like a dream.”

“A dream come true,” JJ says wistfully, fingers skimming Yuri’s cheek, nails grazing his skin. “You made me run after you for so long.”

“Good thing your knees still work.”

“Good thing.” JJ grins. “Yuri?”

“What?”

“I love you,” JJ says. “And I’m happy you’re here and I’m happy it always feels like I’m coming home when I see you, and -- and now you’re actually here, and I hope you aren’t too overwhelmed, because -- I’m just really happy.”

Yuri blinks, cracks, and laughs, pulls JJ down by his collar.

Gravity, and JJ’s smile, are undefeatable.

**Author's Note:**

> drei: i hope this serves you well as a late, late birthday present. thank you for letting me use AJ and LJ -- i hope i did them justice, and i hope you love this as much as i love you for your level-headed yet fierce advice. you are my michelle williams -- wow who knew she shipped pliroy amiright -- and you are an inspiration. i hope your art flourishes -- i know it will. i love you, happy birthday <3
> 
> moon: you absolutely adorable space rock. thank you for always making me laugh and being one of my first pliroy friends. a laugh extends a life; you make me eternal. 
> 
> alix: my first pliroy friend, you and moon brought me to the chat, to something of a little family. co-parent, spouse, fellow struggling psych student, absolute sweetheart -- you never fail to brighten my day with your art and ideas and your smile makes me emit really weird choking noises in public. credit to alix for jj's french. 
> 
> mira: thank you for sharing your music with me! thank you for sharing your writing with me! you know where the title’s from ;) 
> 
> ysab, mel, sidra, jojo: sidra! thank you for letting me write in ivan; i hope you like how he turned out! you’re a gem. you all are so amazingly sweet i’m gonna get cavities. mel, your cheerful greetings are cherished -- ysab, your savagery and calligraphy make you an elegant champion -- jojo, my princess, you may be at the opposite coast but you’re right in my heart. you all are so wonderful and i can’t wait to watch you grow and cry at all your achievements. 
> 
> trix: i don’t think i even have words for how bright you shine. you’re unforgettable with your one of a kind light -- love you, team mom, and all you do for us, and i’ll keep loving you even when BTW shatters my heart into a million pieces. photograph will never be the same. 
> 
> rachel and meghan: dynamic duo! y’all make such great content <3 can’t wait to get to know you both more. 
> 
> mami: queen, keep on keepin on. you are a star! hold your head up high and know we're here.
> 
> dj ufo: !! you !! are !! so kind !! i hope you like this and that i can live up to expectations! you are so good <3
> 
> percy: huncle percy!! you wormed your way into our hearts so quickly. happy, happy, happy current birthday!!!! may you be merry <3 
> 
> nayla: can’t wait until we talk again, 1975 friend <3 hope you’re doing well! we miss you! 
> 
> juli: you're doing amazing work, my girl <3 cheering for you!!


End file.
